


Five Word Prompt Drabbles

by damnslippyplanet



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Spacedogs, a bit with a dog, meets-cute?, public transit meet-cutes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnslippyplanet/pseuds/damnslippyplanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles prompted by various folks based on <a href="http://damnslippyplanet.tumblr.com/post/146312179996/five-word-prompts">this post</a>.  (As I'm typing up this summary I've gotten five prompts, but feel free to send others.  I've got an eight-hour train trip coming up, lots of time to exercise the drabbling muscles.)</p><p>(Note: These are TRYING to be proper literal 100-word drabbles but at least one simply refused to be contained.  We'll see how the rest go.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don’t you dare walk away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff and a bit with a dog.

_Stay_ had gotten him no response at all, but when Hannibal followed it with “Don’t you dare walk away,” he got at least _some_ reaction. A pause and a flick of one floppy ear. Jack half-turned toward Hannibal, considering. He didn’t consider for long before he continued his stroll out of the kitchen, tail wagging happily.

Will looked entirely too amused, watching their dog go. “It’s good to know _someone’s_ immune to your charms,” he offered with a not-remotely-contrite smirk.

Hannibal refrained from pointing out that Will had been immune, once. It was enough to know that he wasn’t anymore.


	2. just come back alive, okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could be cuter than a public transit accidental meeting between a very nice observatory employee and a Romanian drug lord? Maybe some impromptu language lessons. That could be cuter.
> 
> (Be gentle, I've never written these two before, I'm still figuring them out. Also, they absolutely refused to be a 100-word formal drabble.)

“ _Vin înapoi în viață, bine_?”

Nigel presses the button to end the call before he’s tempted to add something like “Don’t let them kill you, because you’ve fucked this one up so badly I want to do it myself.”  No need to send his fuckhead drug runner Andrej diving for cover instead of coming back with the cash.

He studies the ugly snarl of the bus route map. Three more stops until he can get off and have a cigarette. He might make it that long without calling Andrej back to threaten him in more vivid detail.  Maybe.

The man sitting opposite him is staring.  He’s been staring since Nigel started talking, but Nigel’s been trying not to notice.  It’s getting more difficult so finally he gives up and asks, “Are you going to tell me why you’re staring at me?”

The man ducks his head awkwardly and says, “I’m sorry. I was trying to determine what language you were speaking. I’m trying to learn. At my job, when I give tours, there are sometimes people who speak other languages? I’m learning to say hello to them. I can say hello in, um, seven languages now, but I don’t think I know yours.”

It’s a peculiar little speech, broken in strange places, but somehow still rushing ahead so Nigel couldn’t get a word in if he wanted to, until it screeches to an abrupt halt.

What the hell.  He’s got three stops’ worth of time to kill.  

“Romanian,” he says, and watches something click behind the younger man’s eyes as he files away that piece of information.  “ _Română_.”

“Oh. I don’t think we’ve ever had a Romanian visitor before.”  This appears to perturb him briefly, but he recovers.  “We might one day.  It would be useful to know.  How do you say hello?”

“ _Buna ziua_.”

His new acquaintance repeats it, slowly but well enough, and then a second time with a look to Nigel to verify he’s pronounced it properly.  

His smile when he gets it right is like his speech - halting, not quite typical, oddly appealing.

“ _Buna ziua_.  I’ll remember.  Thank you.  I’m sorry I stared.”

“It’s all right.”  It is, Nigel finds to his own surprise once he’s said the words.  While he’s chatting idly about his mother tongue, he’s not counting the minutes until his next cigarette, and he’s not thinking about how badly Andrej fucked the delivery and precisely how he’s going to make him regret it.  It’s a nice change of pace.  The man’s prettier to look at than the route map, anyway.  He slumps down further in the uncomfortable plastic seat and offers, “ _Mă numesc_ Nigel.”

The other man’s brow furrows as he mouths the words to himself, stumbling over them, before he asks, “Is that also hello?”

“It’s an introduction.   _Mă numesc_ \- my name is - Nigel.”

Another pause, another consideration.  This young man apparently considers everything carefully, however slight.  It’d be nice if fucking Andrej gave things half this much thought.

“ _Mă numesc_ …”  He trails off, frowning, until Nigel repeats the words for him again, exaggerating the vowel sounds. He tries again: “ _Mă numesc_ Adam.”

The accent’s all wrong, but it’s nice just to hear someone even attempting to speak Romanian.  Nigel smiles, slow and cat-like, and holds out a hand as if he were someone polite.  “Nice to meet you, Adam. _Imi pare bine_.”

Adam frowns again at that.  “I don’t think I’m going to need to learn this much Romanian. Usually I just learn _hello_.”

Nigel shrugs, easy and friendly.  “You never know, Adam.  Sometimes life surprises you.  Takes you strange places, introduces you to strange people, far from your home.”

Adam turns that one over silently, thoughtful.

Nigel waits for a response patiently. He’s got all the time in the world, or at least three more stops’ worth.


End file.
